


Loathing Self-Assassination

by ugandadistrict9



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Blood cw//, Crushes, Depression, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Lingchi, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Spooky Mormon Hell Dream, Suicidal Thoughts, but scarier than kevin's, its not super graphic but its there so ill tag it, my poor child i am so sorry i love you connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:36:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4125708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ugandadistrict9/pseuds/ugandadistrict9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one is going to worry about him. As much as it hurts, he knows that he doesn't deserve to be worried about. He doesn't deserve to be spoiled and pampered with attention. But that doesn't stop him from thinking about it miserably sometimes. Oh, how nice it would be to have someone dote on him. Comfort him. Love him. But who could ever love pathetic Connor McKinley? </p>
<p>Sometimes, on those self-indulgent nights, he thinks that someone is Kevin Price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loathing Self-Assassination

**Author's Note:**

> I NEVER WRITE ANGST WHAT IS THIS  
> originally inspired by the song Nightmare - Avenged Sevenfold
> 
> it's not meant to be a literal song about nightmares but it's really scary if you think about Connor's hell dreams while listening to it... if you want to really capture the essence of just how bad his hell dreams are listen to that song. i didn't really completely cover the contents of them because i'm no good at writing violence,,,

There's a ringing in his ears. It all starts to come into focus. The screaming, the crying, the suffering. He can hear voices mocking him. He can see the sickly red glow of the all-too-familiar place. He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. He knows this place well. He comes here every single night.

They beat him; they torture him; they ridicule him. Sometimes they kill him. Sometimes worse....

No matter what he does; No matter how hard he has tried, he'll never escape it. One would think that he's been desensitized to all of it by now, but the realization that he's terrible enough to deserve this kind of pain is still really jarring every time. It hurts to know, but he deserves all of this. He belongs here. Getting beaten and tortured and laughed at night after night.

Because no matter what he is during the day – the smart, responsible, confident, cheerful, hard-working, heterosexual District Leader – none of that matters at night. Because at night, he is who he really is.

Filthy.

Sinful.

Disgusting.

Despicable.

A dirty, conniving, replaceable liar.

He doesn't deserve to live. He knows that. Someone who deserved to live wouldn't be punished for living every night with horrible nightmares of dying a thousand deaths; wouldn't be mocked and scorned for being what he was.

But he deserves far more than death. The punishments he's received nightly ever since he was 11 years old were designed to give him what he deserves. They tear him down every night, and there's nothing that he can do about it. It only happens because he's a horrible person. He has woken up screaming many nights, and he has cried and cried, but he knows that it's no use. No one will take pity on him. He won't let them. Wishing pathetically for someone to care about him just proves how gross and worthless he truly is. Even wishing to just kill himself and escape it all is thoughtless; more proof of his greediness.

There are many nights when he thinks about it. All those nights he's woken up at ungodly hours, breathing hard with hot tears streaming down his pale face, he thinks about it. He really thinks about it. How easy it would be to make all that pain go away, through something as simple as getting up in the middle of the night and pulling out that sharpened, shining silver carver from the knife block in the mission house's kitchen.

It's not like he even has anything to live for.

Nobody cares about him. There's nothing that could ever rescue him. Not that he deserves to be rescued by anything.

But sometimes.... sometimes, on self-indulgent nights, as he sits up in bed, unable to go back to sleep... he thinks that maybe it's Kevin Price.

He thinks about Kevin a lot. He knows that it's disgusting and he knows that it has a lot to do with why he even has Hell dreams, but he throws all of that away sometimes just to be mesmerized by his perfection. That perfect smile, that gorgeous hair that he leaves oh so mussed lately.

Not only does he wish Kevin could save him, he's also envious of Kevin -- another horrible sin of his. Kevin is so calm and okay with his new identity of doubting God, whereas Connor, despite what he said, will never ever be okay. He can't let his feelings out. Even thinking about these feelings makes his nightmares all the more miserable.

The dreams hadn't gone away with the excommunication, and with Kevin Price's new way of acting, they'd only gotten worse. It's Connor's own fault. No matter how hard he tries he'll never fix himself when he's so weak and Kevin is so..... Kevin.

Connor would almost loathe him for it if he didn't love him so pathetically.

He doesn't know why he's the way he is. He doesn't know why he turned gay. He doesn't know why he's too weak to ever turn back. No matter how much he or his parents had tried. Ex-gay therapy had never been a fond memory of his.

He turns it off well for a while at least, same as all of the feelings related to what happens to him at night.

He's learned how to be quieter from living with others, but sometimes, when he wakes up sobbing and panting, Elder Thomas hears him. He asks him if he is okay to which he fibs and says of course. He always tells him not to worry and to just go back to sleep.

Elder Thomas has dealt with a lot of trauma in his day, too, so he respects everything that Connor does. He doesn't press him about what happened at night that he's hiding behind those smiles all day. He knows what it's like to turn it off. Most of the Elders do, really.

Every one of them but Kevin. Kevin has always gotten what he wanted. All his life, up until the incidents in Uganda. Incidents that, in the long run, really fixed him as a person. His parents wouldn't think so, but Connor knows that whatever had happened to Kevin made him who he was supposed to be. And his speech has inspired all of the others, but Connor couldn't find that inspiration. He knew he couldn't stop turning it off.

He wasn't even worried about what anyone would think. He just knows, deep down, that what he is is bad. It's been rooted into his brain, through years of therapy and nightmares. He knows that it's wrong. He can never let himself be who he is. And even if people notice that he's ignoring the pain; that he's driving himself to insanity, they won't care.

No one is going to worry about him. As much as it hurts, he knows that he doesn't deserve to be worried about. He doesn't deserve to be spoiled and pampered with attention. But that doesn't stop him from thinking about it miserably sometimes. Oh, how nice it would be to have someone dote on him. Comfort him. Love him. But who could ever love pathetic Connor McKinley?

Sometimes, on those self-indulgent nights, he thinks that someone is Kevin Price.

Kevin Price could hold him tight when he wakes up from the nightmares and Kevin Price could hold his hand and comfort him when he's crying. Kevin Price could kiss him and make all the pain go away.

It's the most greedy, selfish thing he could ever think, but he always does it. He realizes that these thoughts have a lot to do with his dreams, especially lately since _he_ has been in them lately.

He mocks him. He _flirts_ with him, he touches him sensually in most cruel ways as he takes all the other Hell torture.

The very first time, Connor believed it, and they all started to laugh at him, Kevin included. They told him the truth -- he's selfish for thinking that Kevin would ever love him or want him in real life.

No one loves Connor McKinley. He's not meant to enjoy himself during Hell dreams. So instead, they put Kevin there to tease him. It's hard to stop thinking about Kevin when he now haunts his nightmares as well. He hates that Kevin gets to him so much. He's never had a crush on anyone since Steve Blade.

But he just can't stop thinking about him. It's dirty and it's loathsome and it's thoughtless. He gives himself horrible nightmares with his selfishness, but he keeps it under raps. He definitely does not blush when Kevin touches him or looks at him. He is expert at turning it off. There was only one time when he let himself go in a moment and almost blew everything. Kevin was all disheveled and his hair was messy. The way the light played off of the blood splattered all over his face... He had somehow looked _so_ good, and when he put his hands on Connor's face like that, he couldn't help himself. It was the most revolting, shameful thing he had ever thought about doing, but he had almost kissed Kevin. Blood-covered, stressed out Kevin.

It was so unpalatable. He's sure that if he had done it, Kevin would never even look at him anymore. He'd already been freaked out enough, and with that on top of it..... None of the Elders would respect him anymore. Connor wants to die just thinking about it. He's been extra careful about keeping that switch off since then.

As strongly as he wants Kevin, he knows he cannot have him. Kevin would never love him, and even if he did, it wouldn't make Connor's life any better. If he's been getting tortured nightly just for thinking about that stuff, imagine how bad they would get if Kevin actually loved him. If they dated. It would make Connor the happiest man on Earth during the day, but once it came time to sleep...

He could never be truly happy. And he felt guilty. All the Elders wanted him to be happy. So, during the day, to make life better for himself and all his companions, he turned it off, just as he'd been doing with his homosexuality for as long as he can remember. He turns off the hurt and the numbness. He turns off the pain and the tears he's been holding so long. Every day of his life for the past 9 years he's been pretending that he's okay.

Because he is, really. During the day he's okay. That's what he believes. During the day, he's loved and respected. The demons can't get him during the day. But the end of the day is always hard....

Missionaries are supposed to be in bed by a specific time. Since the excommunication, they've been bending the rules a lot, so he can get away with avoiding sleep for a while, at least.

 

Tonight, he'd been having some difficulties with the mere thought of sleeping, worn down from a week's worth of Kevin nightmares.

As he walks into the kitchen, he's surprised to see that there's someone else in there, standing at the kitchen counter, a freshly-poured mug of coffee in hand.

“Kevin? What're you doing up so late?"

“Connor?” he asks, turning around with a quizzical look on his face. “Oh, nothing. Arnold woke me up snoring again... I figured 'it's 4am, might as well just have some coffee and stay up, right?' What about you?"

“Kevin, that's bad. You should go back to sleep...”

“Nah.” Kevin waves a hand dismissively. “I asked you a question, though.” he says, taking a seat on one of the kitchen chairs.

Connor sits down next to him, staring at the wall to avoid looking at him. “Don't wanna talk about it.”

Kevin frowns with concern. He sips his coffee thoughtfully. “Is it the Hell dreams?” he asks quietly.

Connor sighs. There's nothing to even lie about here. He nods miserably, resting his head on the table. “I can't go back there again.” he says, voice a faint whimper.

Kevin's mouth goes dry. He often thinks about the amount of pain Connor must go through every night, having these nightmares for so long. He struggles to find words of comfort. “You're so strong for being able to do that for so long. You deserve a break every once in a while, sheesh. Do you really get them every night?”

Connor says nothing. He can't say anything. He doesn't know how to feel right now. But Kevin speaks for him.

“Usually I'd say you deserve some rest, but right now, all you deserve is some vacation time. Away from Hell. It's not very good for you to just not sleep, but what else is there to do, I mean,” his brows furrow. “I don't want you to be unhealthy, but just for one night, you deserve some time off. I'll take over for you if you're too tired to do some duties in the morning, okay? I'll stick with you all night and make sure you don't fall asleep.” he slides his coffee cup over to the redhead.

Connor gratefully accepts the warm mug, taking a sip of the bitter black liquid. It's vile and has a nasty aftertaste, but he forces himself to ignore that. It's keeping him awake, and Kevin gave it to him, he has to be grateful.

Kevin watches as he downs the contents of the mug. "You want some more?"

Connor nods, handing him the mug. "Thank you." he whispers.

Kevin pours him another mug from the coffee maker that he'd bought from the market. It was kind of old, and only Kevin knew how to work it. That was okay, though, since none of the other ex-missionaries drank coffee.

"I didn't know you liked coffee, Connor."

"I don't. But if it's keeping me awake..."

Kevin pats him on the shoulder as he brings over the fresh coffee. He stops before setting it down, seeming to be having a realization. "Want some sugar?"

Connor almost chokes, unable to meet Kevin's gaze. His face reddens and he covers it with a hand. "W-what?"

"Sugar. It'll make it taste better." Kevin gives him a confused look. "Here," he opens the cupboard and pulls out the bag of white sugar.

Connor lets himself relax. What was he thinking? He's just tired, he reminds himself as Kevin stirs the sweet crystals into his coffee. The vile liquid is a little bit better with the sugar, but only just barely. The aftertaste is atrocious. He wonders if this stuff will actually keep him awake. Beside him, Kevin is yawning.

"You should go to sleep..." Connor sighs, sounding equally as tired.

"No. I'm staying up with you."

"No, Kevin, I'm fine, just go back to bed."

"No."

Connor just doesn't get it. Why is Kevin bothering to go out of his way for him. "Why are you doing this?" he asks tiredly.

"Because I... I..." Kevin searches desperately for words, face flushing. "I care about you."

He cares.... about Connor?

Connor won't believe that. Not until he really proves it. But maybe he already is... Stubbornly refusing to leave him alone, making him coffee.

Connor rubs his eyes sleepily. "I'm sorry." is all he manages to say.

"No, no, no, Connor... What're you apologizing for?" Kevin's voice is full of concern.

Making you worry about me, Connor thinks to himself. Instead he says nothing. He doesn't want Kevin to be worried or upset because of him. Kevin shouldn't be worried about him. Jeez, what has he done. Maybe he should just go back to bed. All of a sudden, it doesn't feel worth it to stay up. He deserves the torture and the deaths.

"Connor?"

"Don't worry about it."

Kevin yawns again, causing Connor to yawn too.

They sit in silence for quite a while, Kevin leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed and his legs outstretched. Connor is leaning forward, resting his chin on his arms on the table, desperately trying to keep his eyes open.

The next thing Connor sees is red. Red everywhere. He can smell the metallic scent of blood. He hears faint voices, not quite in focus yet.

Only this time, the voice that first comes clear isn't Lucifer's. It's a weak, frail voice, begging weakly to be spared. His stomach twists as his vision focuses.  
The voice is Kevin's.

Kevin is shirtless, his ripped up shirt on the hot concrete beneath him. He's bleeding everywhere.  
Red cuts slash up and down his whole body. Cuts not deep enough to kill him, but enough to cause him a great deal of pain. There are four devils around him, all holding large kitchen knives, identical to the one Connor often thinks about killing himself with. The weak cries of pain Kevin lets out as one of the devils makes a cut on his shoulder bring hot tears to Connor's eyes.

"NO!" he yells, running towards them. "STOP IT!"

There's blood trickling down Kevin's arm from the new slash on his shoulder, and he chokes out a sob.

"KEVIN!" Connor cries with anguish, wishing to hold him, but knowing he'll just cause him more pain by touching his raw cuts. "STOP!!" Connor screams, pushing the left devil back before he can slash Kevin's hand.

The devil instead cuts Connor right across the wrist. He howls in pain, holding his wrist.

"C-Connor..." Kevin weeps faintly. His face is streaked with tears, stinging a cut on his right cheek.

"Kevin...." Connor whimpers, holding back his tears. "I'm sorry."

The devil behind Kevin must be doing something now as he is screaming and screaming and Connor doesn't know what to do. He's too weak to stop them.

"Stop, stop! No you can't--" he shrieks. "Kevin, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." he's sobbing now. He wraps his arms around Kevin's neck, wishing that it didn't have to be like this. "Kevin, Kevin! I love you. I love you so much. Don't die, Kevin, no, please--!"

Kevin is coughing, too weak to even cry or scream as the pain worsens.

"No, stop! Please! Take me instead! Torture me! Kill me instead! He doesn't deserve it, stop!! I don't care about me, just stop hurting him..."

Kevin cries out again.

"STOP!" Connor sobs. And then he feels cold hands around him. He hears unfamiliar voices faintly calling his name. They're taking him as well. But they don't stop torturing Kevin.

As Connor's consciousness is fading, Kevin opens his mouth, and his voice comes out stronger than Connor expected.

"Connor? Connor, wake up!"

 

And he does.

 

His eyes fly open, and he gasps. His breathing is uneven, and his voice feels hoarse. He realizes where he is. He's on the table in the mission house's kitchen. Kevin is above him, eyes wide with fear and worry.

He's panting, and the table is wet with tears. He can feel them still streaking down his face.

"Connor, are you okay?"

Connor says nothing. He knows he isn't okay. He's shaking like crazy.

"It's gonna be okay." Kevin says softly.

No, no it's not! Connor wants to shout. It'll never be okay for me!

Kevin grabs his hand and squeezes it gently. "I love you, Connor."

Connor's body seizes up. He looks up at Kevin, confused. What was he saying? He didn't. It wasn't true. No. Connor wouldn't believe it. Kevin didn't love him. Was this some kind of sick new type of nightmare?

"Connor." Kevin says again, gently cupping his face with his other hand. "I love you."

No, no, this was all wrong. Kevin couldn't love him. He refused to believe it, but somehow his heart was racing in his chest. He was sure that Kevin could feel the hotness of his blushing face already. He couldn't let this happen.

Kevin leans in, his face is so close. It would be so easy for Connor to let him. He could just kiss him and make everything better, but Connor knows better. He flinches away.

"You can't." he protests, voice shaky and faint.

Kevin looks confused, albeit a little hurt. "Why not?"

"I _can't_ love you Kevin. Loving you is the reason I have horrible nightmares. I can't love you. It's too painful." he manages. "You can't kiss me, I'll just fall in love with you more and I can't take that."

Kevin's eyes widen. "But, you were okay with it last night..."

Last night? Oh dear. Had he kissed Kevin last night? He didn't even remember falling asleep,  so it was possible, but he didn't want to believe he'd been so careless. So stupid.

"No... no, I didn't-- I couldn't have..."

"I'm sorry." Kevin swallows, feeling guilty.

"No...." Connor is in shock. That would explain his nightmare then. It was the worst one he's had since the Steve thing.

Kevin takes his hands away from Connor, and Connor feels disgusting. He wants Kevin to comfort him. To kiss him. He doesn't remember the kiss, and he wants it fresh in his mind. He wants Kevin to touch him softly and tell him everything will be okay. He wants to fall asleep in Kevin's arms and sleep soundly, dreaming of sweet, nice things instead of Hell. He wants Kevin to kiss him with a fierce passion and go all the way with him on the couch in the night while all the Elders are asleep.  
But none of that can ever happen. The feelings are overwhelming him, but he knows what to do.

 

Click.

 

It's off now.

 

The feelings are all gone. He looks up at Kevin, plastering a big smile onto his face.

"You can't love me because it's wrong. Being gay is a horrible sin, Elder Price. I'm glad that you were open about your feelings instead of lying, but try to turn them off next time before this can happen again, okay?"

Kevin's mouth hangs open. “Connor? What the hell...”

Connor looks up at him with a hollow, emotionless smile, all his previous pain and hurting gone from his reddened eyes. He laughs lightheartedly. "I'm terribly sorry, Elder Price, but you know how it is."

"No, Connor. Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"This. Stop pretending that nothing is wrong. I know that something is wrong. You were screaming and crying in your sleep."

Connor laughs nervously. "I'm fine, Elder Price--"

"And stop calling me that. It's Kevin, you know that."  
"I'm sorry about that, but you know I can't call you by--"

"Connor." Kevin says. "Cut the crap. I know you're not okay. You can't just pretend that it's okay when it wasn't just a minute ago. You're not okay like this. I know I can't stop your nightmares and I've probably only made them worse.... but you can't just pretend to be fine when you're not fine. You're not o-fucking-kay, Connor. But we can't help you if you just hide it behind a mask all the time. You need to try and beat the nightmares. You don't deserve this kind of unrelenting torture."

Connor can't hold it in anymore, he's crying now. He's shaking. Tears are spilling down his face. Kevin just broke the light switch. It seems like it's stuck on, now. "I just want to die, Kevin."

If Kevin's heart wasn't already broken, it just fell out of his chest right then.

"Connor...."

"It's true. The torture and the pain and all of it only happens because I'm sinful. I'm disgusting, Kevin. I'll never fix that. It'll be easier to just kill myself."

"Connor... No, Connor, don't--" Kevin's face pales. "The nightmares only happen because it's hard-wired into your brain that being gay is bad. But it's not. It's not because you're gross, no matter what your family has said to you. If Heavenly Father really is real, he doesn't care either. He'd have to be a real fucking douche-nozzle to give someone as incredible as you these kind of nightmares. The only reason you get them is because you believe you're bad. I just have to find some kind of way to convince you that you're not."

"No, that's--" Connor shakes his head in disbelief. "It's not possible...."

"Yes it is."

Connor wipes tears from his eyes. "Why are you trying so hard?"

"Because I _care_ about you. I already told you." Kevin takes Connor's hands in his own. "I love you, Connor McKinley."

Connor shakes his head, tears flowing again. "No, no, you can't."

"I do." Kevin insists.

Connor takes a long pause. He swallows, looking Kevin in the eyes. "Why?"

Kevin's eyes widen. "Because you're amazing. You're so incredibly strong, Connor. I know you don't see it that way, but you go through the whole day smiling and cheering everyone up, and go to bed at night every night, knowing the horrors that await you."

Connor's eyes are wide with disbelief, but he doesn't protest. He wants to hear what else Kevin thinks about him.

"You're beautiful, Connor. You're so smart and talented and attractive. It hurts me to know that you're dealing with so much shit. I just-- I want you to be okay. Fuck everyone that's ever dissed you to make you feel this way. Fuck your shitty family for taking you to therapy and burning it into your brain that you're not a good person just because of your sexuality. Fuck the church for making you believe that you can't be gay and happy at the same time. You're fucking amazing just the way you are, Connor. Don't ever forget that."

It was hard to believe that Kevin was saying all these words to him. People had told him similar stuff all the time, but they never meant it like Kevin did.

He didn't know if it was because of the colourful language or simply because he wanted to believe it, but he knew that Kevin was telling the truth about what he thought. He wanted to take the time, here and now, at 5 in the morning, to convince him that he isn't worthless. That homosexuality isn't bad. It might be a long road, but Connor thinks he may finally be willing to accept this challenge.

"Kevin?" he asks softly.

"Yeah?"

"I think... I think maybe you're right."

Kevin smiles. "Of course I'm right." he jokes. He holds his arms out, making sure Connor is okay before he hugs him.

Connor buries his face in Kevin's chest, and for the moment, everything is okay. The whole world dissolves, and Connor's problems go along with it. There's nothing except for him and Kevin. Nothing but Kevin's warmth, love, and the rise and fall of his chest. He can feel strong emotions coming on. He can hardly believe that Kevin would go through all of this for him. He still can hardly believe that Kevin loves him.

He knows it's not going to be easy to leave behind his homophobia. Letting his feelings out is not something he has ever done. People don't change easily. After nine years of always turning it off, Kevin's right -- it's practically been rooted onto Connor's brain to hate himself. But as long as Kevin keeps encouraging him, he has hope. Maybe he can finally accept himself. Maybe he can love himself like he loves Kevin.

It's going to be a long time, and he still has doubts that it's even possible, but in this moment, with Kevin squeezing him so lovingly, he believes that he can push through it.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't proofread this properly because HOLY SHIT HOW DID I EVEN WRITE THIS.  
> I TAKE IT BACK. I REGRET IT. IT WAS MOSTLY AT LIKE 8-11AM I WAS COMPLETELY CONSCIOUS WHILE WRITING THIS HOW THE FUCK.


End file.
